


Better Than a Dream Part Two (Week 15)

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Spn Hiatus Writing Challenge [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, depressed!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: “Imagine Sam being in love with you but you’re depressed and don’t notice”+“I’m trying my best to be polite here”Sequel to Week 14





	Better Than a Dream Part Two (Week 15)

You sit there a long time, staring into your cup and not actually drinking, until the hot chocolate is too cold to consume. Then you set it on the nightstand and burrow yourself under the blankets again.

You manage to drift off at one point, into that weird space between waking and sleep, and you’re pulled out of it by a soft hand on your hair.

“Sam?” you murmur, opening your eyes to see the younger Winchester standing over you. “Wha’?”

“Case was a false alarm,” he tells you, sitting on the edge of your bed, exactly where his brother was earlier. “Dean said you’re feeling down today. Have you eaten anything?”

You tug the blankets tight against your chin. “Don’t feel good.”

“You’ll feel better if you eat.”

Why is he doing this? Why does he even bother? You shake your head frantically. Sam sighs, the sound tearing at your heart. He’s disappointed, you know he is. That knowledge only makes things worse.

“Come here,” he says, tugging on the blankets until you let go of them. He grasps your arms and pulls you upright, into his embrace. You stiffen, unsure how to react. “Talk to me,” Sam murmurs, breath warm on your ear. “Please. I want to help you and I don’t know how.”

You shake your head, but let your body relax so you’re tucked neatly against his chest. You’ve missed this, even if it was just a dream before.

“You’ve been pushing me away ever since that djinn,” Sam observes, rubbing a hand along your spine. “I’m worried. Dean and Cas are worried. Look, I know something happened in the dream and I know it involved me. Please just tell me so we can fix whatever’s wrong.”

Tears well up in your eyes and you frantically shake your head again, clutching at his shirt with one hand. At this point you’re not sure if you can even speak, let alone tell him.

“Alright, let’s play a guessing game then. Did we hate each other?”

“No,” you manage.

“Was I dead?”

“No.”

“Did I do something to upset you?”

“No.”

“Were we… together?”

You bite your lip. You don’t want to say yes, but you don’t want to lie. Your silence is enough for Sam, though. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“We were together. Okay. And now you’re afraid of getting too close because you think what happened in your dream can never happen in real life.”

“You don’t love me,” you murmur. “How could you? Look at me. I’m a wreck. I can barely take care of myself some days. No one could love me.”

Sam makes a strange sound and holds you tighter. “I love you,” he says quietly. “I love you.”

“You can’t,” you say, shaking your head. “Don’t make fun of me, Sam. I know you’re just saying that to be nice and I don’t appreciate it.”

“I love you,” he says again. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to accept it. I love you.”

You jerk away, shoving at his chest, and lay down with your back to him. “Go away, Sam.”

“I will. But I love you.”

You hear the door shut behind him. Only then do you let yourself cry.

* * *

You’re feeling better the next day, but you stay in your room. Cas comes in with food and tries to persuade you to join the boys in the library, but you refuse. You eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Cas made for you, though. It was very thoughtful of him.

Dean knocks on your door around dinner time and asks if he can join you. You don’t want to talk to him, but you don’t feel like being along anymore so you let him in. He’s carrying two bowls of chicken noodle soup, and you eagerly accept yours. You’re starving.

“Thanks, Dean,” you say as he sits next to you on the bed, arm pressed against yours.

“Sam told me what happened,” he says. “He’s worried he pushed too far.”

“He doesn’t love me,” you grumble, hunched over your bowl.

“He does. I overheard him telling Cas.”

You roll your eyes. “Not the way I love him.”

Dean is silent for a long time. Then, “I’m pretty sure he does.”

“Don’t say stuff like that, Dean. You’ll just get my hopes up.”

“Fine, I won’t say it, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Eat your food.”

You glare, but take a big bite of soup. It’s good, you have to admit, and once you get started you can’t stop. You’re unbelievably hungry. Dean looks a little smug as he works his way through his own bowl.

“Thanks,” you say again when you’ve finished.

“You’re welcome,” he replies. “There’s pie and I think Sam is teaching Cas how to make popcorn, if you feel like being social. We’re going to watch the first Lord of the Rings movie.”

You think about it, hands still wrapped tight around your empty bowl. “Okay,” you finally answer. You have to leave your room some time. At least a movie means Sam won’t try to make conversation.

Dean grins. “Awesome.”

“Let me change first,” you tell him.

“Okay.” He takes you bowl. “We’ll be in Sam’s room. He has the best TV.”

You force a smile and nod, reluctantly leaving the bed to get clean clothes from your drawer. Dean leaves and you quickly change into comfy yoga pants and a t-shirt before making your way down the hall to Sam’s room.

The door is open and you can see Dean and Cas sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, Sam leaning against the headboard.

“Y/N,” the younger Winchester says, smiling and beckoning for you to sit beside him.

You’re torn between wanting to and not wanting to, but there’s nowhere else to sit. You reluctantly take the spot by Sam.

“I love you,” he says quietly as Dean starts the movie.

You can feel the blush creeping over your cheeks and shake your head at him. “I’m trying my best to be polite here, Sam.”

“I know. Someday you’ll believe me, though.”

“Right.”

“Shhh,” Dean hisses, glancing over his shoulder.

* * *

You fall asleep at some point and wake up long after the movie has ended, tucked under Sam’s arm with your head on his chest. You jerk away.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, scrambling for an excuse as you practically throw yourself off the bed. “I- shit!”

Sam catches you as you lose your balance, keeping you from falling. Concern is written all over his face. “You okay?” he asks, gently tugging you upright. “That was close.”

You’re a little stunned and you stare at him wordlessly.

“Y/N?”

“I… you caught me,” you finally gasp out.

Sam’s lips curl into a small smile. “I’ll always catch you.”

Okay, that’s a little too much to take in. “Sam, I… I have to go.” You push away from him and bolt down the hall to your room, ignoring him calling after you.

You lock the door behind you and crumple onto your bed, gasping. Sam seemed pretty serious, but he has to be faking. You’re not sure why he would do something so cruel- it’s so out of character for him. Maybe he’s been possessed? But you would’ve noticed by now. Right?

You pull your legs up to your chest, forcing your lungs to take deep breaths.

What if Sam is telling the truth?

A soft knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. You’re almost positive it’s Sam and your suspicions are confirmed when he calls your name.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong. I realize I probably overwhelmed you. Look, you don’t have to open the door, but hear me out. I’ll stop saying it if that’s really what you want me to do, but let me prove to you how much I care. Please?”

You rub the tears from your eyes, holding your legs tighter.

“I’m going back to bed,” Sam tells you. “You should get some sleep, too, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

Despite yourself, you do as he says. You’re asleep just moments after your crawl under your blankets.

* * *

You wake up the next morning to the smell of breakfast. Your stomach growls and you drag yourself from bed. You make your way to the kitchen, where you find Sam carefully arranging a plate of food on a tray. He looks up when you enter the room.

“Damn, I thought you would still be asleep. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” he says with a pout.

You stare, still standing in the doorway. “Breakfast… in bed?”

Sam nods, holding up the tray. On it are a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, with toast and a glass of orange juice on the side. A small glass of water holds a handful of wildflowers.

“Sam,” you say softly as he moves the food to the table. You sit. “Thank you.”

He blushes, grabbing his own plate of food and sitting across from you.

Dean chooses that moment to walk in. “I smell bacon.”

But as Sam directs his brother to the plate by the stove, you can’t help thinking that maybe the younger Winchester is telling the truth.


End file.
